Beauty In The Broken
Cord
"Jacob." Hammond paused in the hallway outside his office, his gaze flickering between his old friend and the Major. "I didn't expect to see you back here so soon."
"As much as I'd love to stay, I've got to get back to the Tok'ra, George." The elder Carter motioned in the general direction of the 'Gate. "I've got some intel that can't wait."
"Well, that's too bad. I'm sure that your daughter would have liked to have a longer visit." Somehow, his words sounded loaded—-preparatory for something else.
"Yes. She would have." Sam's smile was brief, and quiet. "However, I understand that he needs to go. He has responsibilities elsewhere."
"With your permission, George, I'm going to go give the 'Gate address to your people." Turning to Sam, he reached out to smooth the hair from Jake's forehead before meeting Sam's eyes. "I'll meet you in a few minutes in the 'Gateroom, okay?"
"Okay." She watched him go, then turned back towards the General. Heart pounding, she screwed up her courage and spoke. "Sir—I—-"
"Major Carter, I—"
They'd spoken at the same time. Sam clamped her lips together and simply looked at the General. She hadn't wanted to do this here, let alone now, but it was obvious that Hammond had something to say.
After a beat, Hammond stepped into his office, then turned back towards Sam. "Come on in, Major."
"Yes, Sir."
The office was more disordered than usual—-the General's desk was covered in papers and folders—-his computer had been left on, although a screensaver was bouncing around the display.
Sam didn't sit, electing instead to stand to the side of Hammond's desk, near the corner closest to the door. Jake fussed a little when she stopped moving, so she started swaying again—-it was rapidly becoming an unconscious constant for her.
Hammond closed the door behind him, then crossed towards his chair. "Major, I know that you must be feeling uncomfortable about my take on what I witnessed this morning."
"Yes, Sir." She nodded, dodging when Jake's fingers reached for her nose. The distraction gave her a moment to choose her words carefully. "I apologize for how it must have looked. I assure you that nothing happened last night that was contrary to military regulations."
"That's what Colonel O'Neill said." Hammond didn't look convinced, and his words were laced with a healthy sprinkling of skepticism.
"He's telling the truth." She dodged the baby's fingers again, grabbing them gently in her own and holding them still. "No no, Jake."
"I take it that you've decided to keep him?"
Which 'him'? The baby? Yes, she was going to keep him.
The Colonel? Was he even capable of being kept? Wildly, madly, she wanted to find out. She'd thought about little else for days. His words—spoken nearly a week before—still haunted her.
What if it's amazing?
Because she knew that it could be. She'd seen it. Playful mornings in the kitchen, kisses in the hall,
bubbles in the bath, and reading stories to a sleepy little boy who snuggled up against her. And if it meant that she'd no longer be able to go through the 'Gate? Well, maybe that would keep her from adding any more nightmares to her repertoire.
Sam nodded. "Yes, Sir. I'm going to keep Jake."
"And the Colonel? Where will he fit into this?"
"Sir?"
"He indicated to me this morning that he also wants to raise this child. From what I saw this morning, he's already as devoted as you are."
"I don't know, Sir." Sam could feel the ground shift beneath her. What did that mean? That he wanted to take Jake away from her? Raise him on his own? she felt a surge of —what—apprehension? Panic. Ice seemed to crawl up her spine at the realization that she really didn't know what he wanted. "He and I haven't made any decisions about that."
"He says that you're amenable to having him fully invested in Jake's life."
"I am."
The General bracketed his hands on his waist, taking a full accounting of her, his own expression carefully hooded. "I just can't help but think that there's more going on here than I'm being made aware of. I've been doing this work for a long time, and I know how easy it is for people to get in over their heads."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Major, I might seem like an old stickler, but I want you to know that you can come to me. I would hope that you'd trust me with whatever is troubling you."
There was that stubborn streak again. She nodded, but kept her lips firmly sealed.
"Beyond being your Commanding Officer, I'm also a friend of your father's. In his absence, I should hope that you would consider me a substitute."
"Yes, Sir."
"Okay then." Hammond looked completely unconvinced. "Well, I've had the lawyer people start brainstorming ideas about how to get this baby legal."
"Thank you, General. I had absolutely no idea where to start with that process."
"Legally, it should be pretty straightforward. A DNA test would prove him to be yours."
"Mine and the Colonel's, Sir." Sam's eyes narrowed as she put that out there. "Which might make some people in the Pentagon look at things twice."
Hammond sighed, sitting in his chair and leaning back. "That's true. Well, I'm sure that we can work something out. Something similar to what we did with your father's paperwork when he blended with Selmak."
Since Jacob was ostensibly working on behalf of the government, he was still being paid by the Air Force. More than two years ago, Sam had sat for hours with the legal department getting all the signatures and forms needed so that she could act on his behalf in his absence. Major Okonkwo had moved bureaucratic mountains, making things legal even through the deepest veils of classification.
"I'm ready to go back to work as soon as possible, Sir."
The look he gave her was kindly disbelieving. "I understand that you feel that way. However, I still believe that it would be in everyone's best interests if we put you on stand down for the next little while. I'll assign Major Bledsoe as the new fourth to SG-1 until you can get things sorted out with the baby, and until we can figure out what's happening with you medically."
She wasn't sure what reason Fraiser had given the General for the delay in clearing Sam medically, but the fact that it was no longer an issue obviously hadn't been communicated to him yet. She should insist to the General that she was ready to go back to work. That she was in the process of finding a nanny for Jake and could soon gear up as usual. She should forcefully tell him that she was perfectly healthy enough for 'Gate travel and to resume her duties on her team.
Except that would have been a lie. She wasn't anywhere near ready to go through the 'Gate. The mere prospect of it filled her with a trepidation that verged on terror. Still—while she knew that she had no business going through the 'Gate, part of her wanted to rage that yet something else had been taken from her. And the rest of her wanted to lay down and weep for the unsteady coward she'd become.
"It is my honor to serve."
Thera hefted the pipe in her hands, the thick metal solid and smooth. She'd been replacing the converter when she'd heard the oath, spoken as if from far away. Curious, she'd turned in the direction of the voice.
Brenna stood above her on the catwalk, speaking with a man that Thera had never seen before. He looked different from the other Workers. Cooler, somehow. Cleaner. His clothing wasn't the rough-spun fabrics that Sam had seen being woven in the textiles sector, but something far and above finer. She'd never seen anything like it before.
Had she? It seemed like she had—but she couldn't recall when or where. And when she tried, something in her brain revolted—exploding white-hot and angry.
Her head hurt. She dropped the pipe to the ground and raised her hands to press against her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks. The pain pierced through her, radiating beyond her skull and down her neck and back. She could see something in her mind—just beyond her reality—just beyond the blackness pouring down through the pain. Fabrics and clothing that seemed otherworldly—it was there—there—nearly there—just beyond her reach—
"It is my honor—"
"Major?"
Sam jerked herself out of the vision, upsetting Jake and causing him to start whining again. He turned into her body, rubbing his face against her shoulder. Sam lifted her hand to stroke his back, relishing the solidity of the child in her arms as if he were her talisman. She forced herself to breathe normally, to relax. Prayed that her voice would sound normal. "I'm sorry, Sir. I must have—"
But there wasn't anything else to say about it, so she simply fell silent with an inane shake of her head.
"Are you all right?"
No. No, she wasn't. There was not a chance in hell was there anything right with her. Nope.
"I'm fine, Sir."
Again, his expression seethed with disbelief. "Maybe you should go and see Doctor Fraiser."
"I'll be fine, Sir."
"Sam?" Jacob poked his head into the office, gesturing at Carter. "They're ready to dial."
"Go." Hammond waved her away, his eyes still speculative. "We'll continue this discussion later."
"Yes, Sir."
Striding across the office, Sam exited and fell into step beside her father. They walked quickly through the hallway, down a short flight of steps, and around a landing before stopping at the threshold of the 'Gateroom.
"You okay?"
Of course her father would notice. Sam shook her head. "Just another of those—things."
"Visions."
"It's like I'm being haunted, Dad."
"I hate leaving with you like this."
So did she. But there was no use in dwelling. She looked down at Jake, who was playing with the collar of her shirt, turning it up and down as if to see what might be hiding underneath.
"You'll figure it out, sweetheart." Jacob touched Jake's arm, grinning when the baby recognized him and bobbled up and down in excitement.
"I'll try." Sam saw the event horizon form out of the corner of her eye, the light reflecting on her father's face. Sucking in a weary breath, she met his eyes. "I'll miss you, Dad."
"I'll miss you too, kid." He touched her cheek, then pulled her and Jake into a tight, bulky hug. "I meant what I said before. I'm proud of you. Never, ever think differently."
"Thanks, Dad."
"I also meant what I said about the money thing. If you decide that you want to take some time to just be a mom—-to be with, well, you know—-use what's in my savings. I'm not making any withdrawals, so you might as well. Don't let keeping the job keep you from doing what you want."
"You realize that's the exact opposite of every piece of advice you gave me growing up?"
"Selmak has that effect on me." Jacob shrugged with a wry smile. "Like I said. He's a softhearted romantic. He wants to see you as happy as I do."
Sam studied her dad's face for a long moment, until he'd pulled away and turned towards the 'Gate. "I love you, Dad."
His hand cupped the back of her head, tugging her back towards him. "Love you too, sweetheart."
And after a quick kiss to her forehead, he hustled up the ramp and disappeared through the blue.
—-OOOOOOO—-
The infirmary was busy.
Sam hovered at the door to Janet's office, Jake balanced on her arm. Personnel seemed to be everywhere, sitting on gurneys or chairs, or simply leaning against walls as nurses and medical assistants made notes and checked vitals.
Going up on her tiptoes, Sam scanned the crowd until she finally found the doctor, emerging from an isolation unit on the other side of the medical facility.
Janet pushed through a group of young airmen, jotting something down on her clipboard. Signing off on the notes, she handed the clipboard off to a waiting nurse and turned towards her office. When she saw Carter, she grinned.
"Sam!" Pulling off her gloves, she flicked them expertly into the waste container and strode towards her friend. "I wasn't expecting you this afternoon."
"I wasn't planning on coming in today." Sam swayed gently from side to side. Jake fussed a bit, rubbing his face against Sam's shoulder. "But Dad needed to get back to the Tok'ra base. He just 'Gated out."
"I heard that Jacob had arrived this morning." Janet dodged out of the way as one of the medical staff wheeled a gurney past. "I hoped that you'd have a chance to have a visit."
"We did."
"Not very long, though."
"Long enough to hash some things out."
Fraiser's brows rose at that. "You'll have to save that story for later. It's been crazy in here today."
"What's going on here? It seems more chaotic in here than usual for a Monday afternoon."
"Well, we had scheduled regular physicals for SG teams eleven, eight, and four. But then SG-6 encountered an ambush on P5C-139, and Captain Lewis sustained a staff blast injury. Then, while dragging Lewis home, Lieutenant Manutai twisted his ankle. So, we've been a little overwhelmed."
"How are they?"
"Lewis be fine." Janet reached out and grabbed a file from a passing nurse, flipping past the first sheet and scanning the second. "All of his test results look excellent. Thankfully, he was just grazed. Manutai, on the other hand, will be out of commission for at least six weeks."
"Good for Lewis. That sucks about Manutai." Jake started whining, and Sam switched from swaying to bouncing up and down.
"Is the little man having a bad day?" Janet closed the folder and stuck it under her arm. Leaning in, she peered at the baby. "He looks decidedly annoyed at the world."
"Ever since he woke up from his nap." Sam patted Jake's back. "I have no idea why."
"Hmm. Well, if he doesn't settle down, bring him back in a few hours and I'll give him a once over. You never know. He could be coming down with something."
"I think he's just tired." Sam laid her cheek against the baby's head. "He doesn't feel like he's got a fever, and he fell asleep on the rug in my living room, so I don't think he got a good nap."
"Ah." Janet nodded at another nurse, raising her hand in acknowledgement. "Listen. I've got to go. But come back when you're done with whatever you're doing here. I've got some test results back. We need to talk."
"Just me?" Sam called after her friend. "Or all of us?"
Janet whirled around and walked backward for a few strides. "The whole team."
And then, she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.
—-OOOOOOOO—-
She hadn't been to her lab in nearly a week. Someone had left her motorcycle helmet on her stool, and she moved it to the table so that she could sit. On the journey between the infirmary and her lab, Jake had finally settled down. He was currently sagged against her chest, sucking his thumb and trying to get back to sleep.
The lab was a good place for a nap. She hadn't turned on the overhead fluorescents, relying instead on the ambient light from the monitors and displays of the instrument panels. She'd always found the place soothing—especially when it was like it was at the moment—cool, dark, and quiet. Around her, the tiny lights waxed and waned, coming to life and fading away in a seemingly random cycle.
O'Neill called the display her "winky-blinkies". She'd rolled her eyes the first time he'd said it, but it had stuck. So much so that her 'winky-blinky array' was commonly referred to in formal briefings. Somehow, he always made his mark on her. On her life.
Not that she needed the lights anyway. She could make her way around her lab in complete blackness without a problem. She knew what was in every drawer, every cupboard, every storage space—how many steps it was between bookshelves, instruments, and her desk. Sometimes it felt more like home than her actual house.
There was probably a metaphor there, but frankly—Sam was too tired to find it.
Jake squirmed a little, sighing against her chest. His little jaw worked rhythmically at his thumb, his body finally relaxing into sleep. Sam swiveled back and forth on her work stool, wishing she'd brought his stroller in from the car. The little beggar was heavy.
Honestly, she didn't think she'd want to stick around the base. She'd intended to hug her dad goodbye and head back home. Her visit to see Janet had been impulsive—it had been a bonus to learn that there might be some answers in the test results. Now that she needed to hang around, though, her lab had seemed the most appropriate place to hide.
There was a file folder on the table that she didn't recognize. Someone had scrawled her name on a sticky note and slapped it on the front. Shifting the baby, she held him with one hand and reached for the folder with the other. She slid it over, then found the switch for her desk lamp and turned it on before flipping the folder's cover wide.
Forms. Official documents that had already had her name printed in the pertinent spots.
Family Medical.
Maternity.
Bureau of Vital Records Request.
A memo from the General authorizing six weeks of family leave for Major Samantha Carter, post dated to the week before. Hammond had been in earnest that he'd put a rush on the paperwork.
"Sam."
She knew him by his shape as well as his voice. How many times had Daniel appeared just exactly in this same way in her doorway? "Hey, Daniel."
His tone rang with genuine surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"I just sent my father through the 'Gate."
"Ah." Daniel approached her work table, stopping at the far edge. "I didn't realize he'd be leaving so soon. I thought for sure he'd stay for a while once he met little Jake."
Sam swiveled around to see him better. "Apparently, he'd only come to Earth out of desperation. His cover had been blown on a mission, and he couldn't 'Gate directly back to the Tok'ra base, so he came here instead."
"He figured that our iris would protect him from whoever might come after him."
"Exactly."
Leaning forward, Daniel balanced himself on his forearms on the broad table. "So? What did he think?"
"About what?"
Daniel gestured towards the child she held, tilting his chin downward and peering at her from over the tops of his frames. "You. The baby. This whole thing."
"What? You mean, the sudden, total upheaval of everything I thought my life would be?" Too late, she heard how she must sound. Acrimonious. Frustrated. Angry. And while she wasn't certain how she actually felt about everything, she wasn't bitter. Fearful, maybe, but not bitter. "I'm sorry. It's all just been overwhelming. I question whether I'm really up for all this."
He studied her for entirely too long before speaking. His tone was cautiously probative. "Are you saying that you're rethinking your decision to keep him?"
"No."
"Then what?" The winky-blinkies reflecting in the lenses of his glasses gave him an oddly festive appearance.
"It's just a lot to take in. Especially given what we've all gone through in the past few months."
"The armbands. The mind stamp. Martouf." He dipped his chin, reaching out to touch the folder on her table. "Personal struggles."
She paused, unsure of how exactly to answer that. He wasn't obtuse. Nor was he blind. He was her friend. Probably her closest friend, besides Janet. And no matter how much he sometimes prodded and poked her, she knew that he always had her back. He was one of the few people on the planet who actually cared about her happiness—and not just her usefulness.
"All of that." Carter sighed. "I'm just tired, I guess."
"Still not sleeping?"
She didn't need to answer. He already knew.
"And your dad didn't react how you'd hoped he might."
"He wasn't thrilled."
"Really?" Frowning, Daniel straightened. "That's weird. I thought for sure that he'd been excited for you."
"Maybe he would have been, under other circumstances."
"Uh oh." Squinting at her, he grimaced. "What happened?"
"Let's just say that I shouldn't have given him his own key to my house." She cringed, remembering. "Especially not if I'm planning on letting other people sleep there."
Daniel's brows rose dramatically. "Oh, damn."
"Last night, the Colonel came by to spend some time with Jake." Sam tilted her chin down towards the baby. "He was exhausted, and I suggested that he sleep in my spare room so that he could have more time with the baby in the morning. He got up with Jake and was fixing breakfast. I got up a little later."
Daniel was good at connecting the dots. "So, while the three of you were being all familial and cozy, in walks your father."
"And General Hammond."
"Oh, wow." Daniel whistled. "That must have been awkward."
"You have no idea."
"Bad?"
She nodded. "Bad."
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers, Daniel frowned. "Holy buckets."
"By the time I got dressed and decent, the Colonel and General Hammond were gone." She used her toe to push herself from side to side on the stool. "Dad stayed behind, but he was being my father, if you catch my drift."
"Did the two of you have a chance to talk?"
"We did." Jake sucked in a deep breath, turning his head and snuggling back in. Sam waited until he'd resettled before continuing. "It was productive. I explained everything, and he calmed down. He's supportive, for what that's worth."
"He assumed that Jake was yours, I take it."
"Mine and the Colonel's."
"Which, technically, he is."
"Technically."
"But your dad thought that he'd gotten here the old fashioned way, rather than through the quantum mirror."
"Yeah."
Daniel stepped closer, edging around the table, leaning back against the edge and flicking a look towards the door before focusing back on Carter. "Sam? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, Daniel."
"What's keeping the two of you from just making it official?"
She should have expected it. Of course Daniel knew. Of course he would have seen what had been happening over the course of the years. She turned her gaze downwards, to the concrete flooring of the lab. "I don't know."
"Because it would make things so much easier if you'd just get your heads out of your asses and be together."
Her laugh was raw, but real. "My dad said the same thing. Almost exactly."
"See? I think that you and Jack are the only two that don't think it's a good idea."
"What has he said to you about it?"
"Nothing." Daniel ran his fingers through his hair. "You know Jack. Not big on talking. But Sam, it's obvious what's going on here."
"Is it really?"
"It is if you know what to look for."
She swiveled back and forth again, her chair squeaking slightly in the quiet. "And what happens after we 'make it official'? Do I retire from the military and give up my entire career? Do I give up 'Gate travel? Go sit in a cubicle at Area 51 and examine alien technology for the rest of my life?"
"There are ways to make it work, Sam."
But she wasn't really listening to him. "Or does the Colonel quit and stay home with the baby while I go through the 'Gate? Do we get married? That would be a trick, since he's never asked, or even told me what he wanted or how he feels. And if we do get married, what about more children? Do they make maternity tactical vests? And really, all of this is a pipe dream, since my guess is that the Air Force has no intention of letting either of us go, and they'll send me off to fly cargo planes in Alaska or something the first time someone in the Pentagon gets wind of our relationship. A relationship which is expressly forbidden and punishable by time in Leavenworth, so it's all a moot point since we'll probably be court martialed and sent to prison, anyway."
"Sam." Daniel reached out and touched her arm, stopping her tirade. When she finally met his eyes, they were kind. "I just think that there has to be a way to work it out. The two of you have earned a little leeway."
"I'm not sure that the government knows anything about leeway."
"Maybe not. But I know a little something about the two of you." He folded his arms across his abdomen. "And I know that you've been pretty miserable lately."
"I'm not miserable." There was that special kind of stubbornness, again. Exactly as the Colonel had intimated. And there came that feeling again—-the sensation of being drawn into her own head, the world rushing away as she stood and watched it go.
A flash of something appeared in her head—skim milk and a ruined t-shirt—Jake banging on the tray of his high chair with his baby hands—she could feel herself fading even as she continued her protest—-"I'm not—"
Fire. Molten ore crackling in the flames. Constant voices—all around her. Talking, laughing—pointing at her and blaming.
"It is my honor to serve."
"Thera!"
Screaming, as steam burned skin and hair and the air—the air crackled around her, blue—then red—then gold.
Hot metal, shards of glass spraying as exhausted mechanisms gave way to chaos.
No! No! Colonel!
Jaffa mixed with Workers, staff weapons, bread, and force shields. Run!
Sir, just go!
Sam tried to run, but her leaden feet were too bulky to move, her hands suddenly filled with Naquadah. The band on her arm morphed into a snake and slithered around her neck.
So heavy. Too heavy. And then blackness, and cold, and the velvet dark wrapping around her, strangling, killing.
Dying. She was dying. Standing on the precipice, wanting to fly—
Take the child, Sam. Love him. Take my child— Rings. Rings and watches and riding hell-bent for leather between cars on the highway above the Mountain. Wind against her face, running, running, riding—-flying!
Almost home. Almost there–
NO! Sir—just go!
Her voice gone silent, her lips igniting into flames as she recited the words. "It is my honor—"
"Because I care about her—"
No!
She came back with a sob, fighting for balance on the tall stool. Jake jerked in his sleep, sighing heavily as he tried to find a comfortable position again.
And Sam's heart raced, her breathing stilted, and uneven. Terror flooding through nerves already raw, already hyper-sensitized.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Daniel's face had grown uneasy, his brows low over his bright blue eyes. He was calling her. "Sam? Sam? Are you okay?" He'd caught her, one arm bracing her back as his other hand gripped her bicep.
"Crazy." Her answer came unbidden, and immediate, her voice breaking. She had to remember how to form words. Remember how to use a voice that felt disembodied and unreal. "I'm slowly going insane. Maybe I should just quit right now. Maybe the world is better off without me here pretending that I have any idea what the hell I'm doing. Maybe—"
She was going dark again, fading into her own memories. Into her own waking nightmare.
"Come on, Sam. Don't talk that way." Daniel reached out and handily plucked the baby from her arms, nestling Jake against his own chest with one arm while he steadied her with the other. "Let's get you to the infirmary."
—-OOOOOOO—-
He was laughing.
Not the light giggles he usually made, but a belly-deep chortle that echoed in the quiet of the infirmary.
When Sam cracked her eyes, she could see why. Jake was with O'Neill, who had laid him on his lap. As the Colonel wiggled his legs, the baby was jostled up and down as if on a carnival ride. His squeals of glee pierced the otherwise quietude of the medical facility. The backpack she'd been using as a diaper bag sat on the floor next to the chair.
She didn't remember coming to the infirmary. Couldn't recall how she'd come to be on this gurney. She had an IV in her arm, and her mouth felt like wool. Her head felt like wool, too. She was fuzzy inside and out.
Past the laughter, she could hear a voice. She placed it immediately. Daniel.
"One minute we were talking about her father's visit, and the next she was spouting gibberish and her eyes were rolling back in her head." Daniel was standing next to Jack. He scratched at a spot just behind his ear. "I was able to grab the baby, and then support her until an SF heard me yelling. They're the ones that carried her here."
She'd passed out? Sam frowned, rolling on the gurney until she could see more clearly through the break in the curtain.
"So, it was a panic attack?" The question had come from Hammond.
"Not exactly." Janet was standing just to Teal'c's right, her back to Sam. "It was more like a vision, or a waking dream. Since returning from P3R-118 she hasn't been sleeping, and when she does, she has night terrors that are more exhausting than simply staying awake would be."
"Are any of the rest of you suffering from this same malady?"
"I've been having some insomnia issues." Daniel's admission was made grudgingly. "Bad dreams, too. But nothing like what I saw Sam experience."
"I have not had any difficulties in performing kel'norim." Teal'c looked up at the doctor. "I believe that I have fully recovered from my time spent on P3R-118."
Through the opening in the curtains, Sam could see the General frown down at Jack. "Colonel O'Neill?"
"I've been okay."
"Jack." Daniel knew better, and his tone indicated as such.
O'Neill's jaw worked for a moment as he lifted Jake up to sit on his lap. Without looking at anyone else, he nodded. "I haven't been sleeping very well, either."
"So, three out of the four of you have been suffering from insomnia and other sleep irregularities, and I'm only just now hearing about it?" Hammond was clearly neither amused nor satisfied by what he'd heard. "Is that why you've refused to give Major Carter her medical clearance, Doctor Fraiser?"
Janet stalled for a beat, then steeled her spine and nodded her head. "It's part of it. But there were other considerations as well."
"As in?"
"Female problems."
Hammond simply stared at her for what seemed like ages. "Female problems?"
"Anemia. Irregular menstrual cycles. Abnormal bleeding." Fraiser's expression was purposefully bland. Clinical. "Shall I go on?"
"No." Hammond's normally implacable face colored a bit. "That's quite enough."
Sam groaned, covering her face with her hands. She was both humiliated at having her issues being discussed so openly and impressed at Janet's ability to stop that discussion. She levered herself upright on the gurney, swiveling to sit on the edge. She was still fully clothed, right down to her shoes. The IV was the only indication that she hadn't merely been sleeping. She reached for the pole, dragging it close enough that she could use it to balance herself. Gingerly, she stood, then waited to make sure she wasn't going to fall over.
Nope. All good.
"However, you indicated that you believe that you've discovered why they might be experiencing these difficulties in sleeping?"
"I have." Janet pulled the clipboard out from where she'd been holding it under her elbow.
"Ma-ma!" Jake wriggled on O'Neill's lap. "Ma! Ba-ba!"
Carter had reached the break in the isolation unit's curtains.
Jake, of course, had noticed her first. The Colonel immediately rose, swinging Jake into the crook of his arm as he crossed the concrete floor towards her. His question, when it came, was quiet. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Sam nodded, aiming herself for the chair he'd just vacated. "I'm fine."
"Sit down, Major Carter." Hammond watched until she'd lowered herself into the seat. "Doctor Fraiser believes that she's got some answers for us all."
"Okay." Janet looked at each of them in turn. "I took blood samples from each of you upon your return from P3R-118. I took additional samples a few days ago. There are things that I always test for—blood glucose levels, hemoglobin, liver and kidney enzymes, white blood cell counts—results that are outside the norm can indicate infections or disease."
"That's how you knew that Major Carter was anemic." The General nodded towards Sam. "Routine testing."
"Yes." Her dark eyes widening, Janet gestured at the General with her clipboard. "Every SG team member gets the same testing each time they return through the 'Gate. It's a way for me to track how all the personnel are affected by 'Gate travel."
"And?"
"And usually, things are normal. Unless a team member has been injured or has contracted some kind of illness, these tests come back pretty unremarkable. However, there are things that we test that we don't necessarily track every time. Certain markers aren't usually numbers that we look at regularly, even though they come up on the results page."
"Such as?"
"Hormones. Cortisol, for example. We test for it, because high or low levels can suggest that someone is under too much stress. Abnormal cortisol levels can also indicate other disorders in the adrenal system, like Cushing's syndrome, or Addison's disease." She paused, letting that sink in to her audience.
"Are you saying that all of this is being caused by stress?" This question came from Daniel. "I know that stress can inhibit sleep, but what about the other issues?"
"I don't believe that cortisol is the issue here, Daniel." Janet shook her head. "But I do believe that this is related to hormones."
"How so?" The Colonel spoke from his position just behind Sam's chair.
"Well, when I was treating Brenna's gunshot wound, I asked her about the mind stamp."
"She didn't know how it was actually done." Daniel had walked to the nurse's station and snagged an institutional metal chair. "We asked her about it while we were waiting to 'Gate home, and she said that she'd witnessed the stamp, but didn't know the science behind it."
"That's what she told me, too." Janet referred to the notes on her clipboard. "But she did tell me that the stamps were done individually, by a human—not by a machine or technology. I believe that indicates that the mind stamps on 118 were accomplished through some form of advanced hypnosis."
Sam looked down at her hand, where the IV had been taped into place. She'd been hypnotized a few times in her life. In college, as part of a psychology class. That hadn't affected her at all. The next time had been when Daniel had gone missing. She, the Colonel, and Teal'c had remembered seeing him die, only to be certain that he was alive. She'd volunteered to undergo hypnosis in order to probe her subconscious mind, and it had been terrible. She'd become nearly hysterical at the thought that they'd left Daniel behind. She could still feel O'Neill's arms around her as he'd offered his quiet support.
"Hypnosis?" Hammond sounded incredulous. "I didn't know that it could affect people so adversely."
"Well, normally, it's only a tool. Something psychiatrists or entertainers use to delve into the subconscious while people are in a trance-like state. To be honest, I don't know much about it, and not much research is available about its efficacy. Somehow, the society on 118 has perfected the science in order to subjugate their people."
"So, why do you think that hormones play a part in all this?" Daniel leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his thighs. "How does that factor into our collective sleep issues?"
"There are four hormones that are commonly known as the 'Feel Good' hormones. Dopamine, endorphins, serotonin, and oxytocin. The body releases these hormones in direct response to various activities or experiences." Janet turned the page on her clipboard, scanning down until she found what she wanted. "Teal'c, your hormone levels were normal when you returned from 118. My guess is that is due to the fact that you were able to successfully kel'norim while you were under Brenna's care."
"I was also able to remember my true identity following kel'norim."
"Your symbiote was actively countering the effects of both the hypnosis and the hormones. It was only when Junior could no longer fight it that your health began to fail." Janet tapped on the papers in her hand. "The rest of you, however, weren't so lucky. All of your hormone levels were higher than normal upon your return. In fact, they were, in some cases, twenty times higher than I've ever seen. All three of you had high endorphin, serotonin, and dopamine levels, but in Sam's case, she had hugely elevated oxytocin levels, as well."
"How does that even happen?" Sam ran her fingers along the cool, smooth metal of the IV stand. "That makes no sense."
Fraiser's brows rose. "Well, if you want to enslave your population in dark, underground caverns, force them to work for hours on end without pay or reward, disallow them the comfort of family or relationships, and not expect them to revolt, what do you do?"
"You keep them happy." The Colonel's voice was flat, and heavy. "You feed them hormones that make them feel like everything's fine."
"Normally, people produce these hormones based on outside stimuli or experiences. Sunlight, being in nature, and exercise can stimulate the production of serotonin, for example. Dopamine is emitted when a person is rewarded for something—a task completed, or a goal achieved. Endorphins are released when someone exercises, laughs, or is with friends. My guess is that Caulder and the people responsible for dealing with the slave labor force introduced hormones into the food supply in order to keep the Workers happy and fulfilled."
"So, no rebellions. Nobody gets unhappy and starts questioning things. They just keep working because they're constantly satisfied." Daniel's eyes were wide behind his glasses. "That's diabolical."
"When Teal'c put the first doubts into your minds, and you started actively thinking about your situations, your own bodies began to fight against the hypnosis—the so-called mind stamp—and those hormone levels would have risen even higher because you weren't only ingesting them, you were also producing them."
Daniel rose, rounding to the back of his chair and bracing his hands against the backrest. "But we were actively trying to remember. We'd get momentary breaks where we'd see the 'Gate, or recall acronyms, people, or events. Why did it take so long before we figured things out?"
"I theorize that there must have been some sort of unifying phrase or visual clue that acted as a trigger for the mind stamp. Something that reaffirmed your positions as Workers and renewed the stamp's control over your minds."
"It is my honor to serve." She'd nearly whispered it, but everyone still looked in Sam's direction. "That's what we kept repeating, isn't it? That must have been the trigger for us. We were conditioned to recite it five or six times a day."
Daniel's face grew tight. "I hear that phrase in my dreams."
Hammond turned to look at the Colonel. "Jack?"
"Yeah." His face had turned to stone. "Me too."
"And is this harmful?" The General's frown deepened. "I've always heard that these hormones are helpful rather than a hindrance."
"Well, as with anything, General Hammond, too much of any of these hormones can create problems. An overabundance of dopamine, for example, can make an individual hyper-competitive and aggressive. It can also inhibit impulse control, and many people find themselves drawn to obsessive behaviors. Normal levels of these hormones are necessary for restful sleep—but too much will interrupt natural sleep patterns and cause insomnia or an inability to enter REM sleep."
Hammond sighed deeply, thoughtful. "I understand that you've retested them. Has there been any improvement from when they first returned?"
Janet dropped her gaze to the paperwork in her hands, clearing her throat. "Um. Yes. I think that, in the interest of privacy, I should discuss each person's results with them individually."
"I'd like to know now whether these results will impede this team's ability to work together in a cohesive and effective manner." Hammond took a step forward, looking at each of his people in turn. "Seeing how they've each assured me that they are completely recovered and anxious to go back to work. And seeing how I've already sent them off one mission and they're scheduled for another soon."
Janet's cheeks drained of color. Clenching her jaw, she turned a page on her clipboard. "Well, we've already talked about Teal'c. In addition, Doctor Jackson's levels are nearly back to normal. He told me this morning that his sleep has been uninterrupted except for the odd dream. Nothing to worry about."
"And Colonel O'Neill?"
"I'm fine, Sir." He smiled down at Jake before looking at Hammond. "Never felt better."
"Actually, General, his hormones are pretty much back to normal."
"Pretty much? What does that mean?"
"Dopamine, endorphins, and seratonin are all within acceptable range."
"And oxytocin?"
She pursed her lips briefly before answering. "That's still elevated."
"By how much?"
"Quite a bit."
"And Major Carter?"
Janet flashed a look at Sam. Apologetic, compassionate. She turned to another page and sighed. "Her levels are still elevated across the board. But the oxytocin level is still dangerously high."
"Which means?"
"Too much oxytocin has been preliminarily linked to emotional disorders, hypersensitivity, and sleep disturbance. One problem with oxytocin is that the presence of the hormone stimulates more production of the hormone. It's almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Oxytocin makes you feel a certain way, and that feeling makes you produce more oxytocin. In normal situations, the body would eventually regulate itself. But when combined with the mind stamp, the lack of sleep, the nightmares, and the sudden appearance of a child—the sudden rush into motherhood—I believe that Sam's body is struggling to find equilibrium. In trying to help her feel better, it's actually doing itself more harm."
"So I'm crazy." Sam stood, shaking her head. "I thought that I was imagining things, but you're saying that I'm actually going insane."
"No, Sam." Janet moved in her direction, but stopped at the look on Carter's face. "We just need to take some steps that will help your body to stabilize."
"Oxytocin. The cuddle hormone. The love hormone. That's what they call it, right?" Glaring at Fraiser, Sam started picking at the tape on her hand. "And you brought up Jake. You think that he's part of my problem."
"Carter, sit down." O'Neill stepped to the side of her chair, trying to stop her movements. "C'mon. We'll get this figured out."
"Because you want him, don't you? And with me going nuts, you can just take him." She ripped the tape off her hand, and pulled the cannula of the IV free, tossing it aside. Blood welled up on the back of her hand, but she didn't care. Couldn't feel—anything—but the rage building up inside. Anger mixed with terror at the idea that they'd take him away. That the Colonel would take Jake from her. She'd already lost him, hadn't she? Not that she'd ever had him—not that anything had ever been settled.
But to lose this child as well—no. No. "Give him to me."
"Sam—"
So, she simply took him, reaching up and grabbing the baby from the Colonel's arms. Crouching, she retrieved the diaper bag and slung it over her shoulder. Then she pushed past O'Neill and the General and aimed herself for the door.
"Carter!"
His footsteps echoed in the hallway behind her, but she headed unerringly for the elevator. By some stroke of luck, the doors had just slid open, disgorging a group of airmen. Sam shoved her way through them and punched at the buttons on the display.
"Major!"
The doors closed just as he'd reached them.
Up. Up towards the surface. She changed elevators on Level 11, jostling Jake when he started fussing again. Some civilians boarded with her, and then she had to wait through three agonizing separate stops before she'd reached topside. Jake started crying in earnest as soon as she strode through security, but she barely heard him past the blood rushing in her veins, the fury pummeling her soul. She knew that she was acting irrationally, but it was the only way—wasn't it?
No. No—she was doing the right thing. Leave. Keep the baby. Get as far away from this place as possible before they could take him away—before she could be thrown into a padded cell.
"Carter!"
His voice again. Was it real? Who the hell knew. He'd taken the stairs. Right? She refused to look. Down the entry tunnel, out into the dimness of the early evening. The sun was setting, throwing shadows in the parking lot. She struggled to remember where she'd parked her Volvo—finally seeing it on the furthest edges of the lot, alone on the tarmac. Pale blue reflecting the orange of the sun's final rays. She broke into a jog.
"Sam—damn it! Wait up!"
Go, Sam! Go! That inner voice again. Urging her onward. Run!
She hustled faster, reaching the car and struggling to retrieve the keys from the backpack pocket where she always kept them. She scratched the car in her haste, but didn't care. Pulling open the back door, she thrust the now-screaming Jake into his car seat, buckling him in with savage efficiency and throwing the door closed.
"Sam!"
His footsteps now, right behind her. She yanked the handle of the driver's side door, throwing the door wide. She tossed the backpack into the passenger seat and lowered herself to the driver's seat just as he reached her.
"Sam." O'Neill grasped the door frame before she could close it, holding it firmly. "Sam. Come back in. Let's talk about this."
"You all think I'm insane."
"No. Nothing like that." His dark eyes searched hers. "We're worried about you."
"We?"
"I'm worried about you." Jack lowered himself to a crouch next to her. "This isn't like you."
"I told you I was broken." She held the key to the ignition, ready. "I told you that something was wrong with me. I just thought it was stress, or exhaustion. But it turns out that I'm actually crazy. Only I'm not. I know that I'm not. And you want to take him away from me."
"I don't, Carter." He shook his head, his gaze flickering between her and the keys in her hand. "Jake belongs with you."
"Janet was saying that he's making things worse." Her eyes were hot. Why were her eyes hot? Wetness slipped down her cheeks. Crying? When had that happened? "She wants to take him, too."
"Nobody wants to take Jake away from you."
"Why not? When I'm such a disaster."
"You're not a disaster." He shifted his position, touching her arm. "Come back inside with me. Let's talk this out."
"Talk it out." She felt herself sniffle. Was she crying? How? She didn't cry. Hormones, right? Damn hormones. Damn everything. "Like we've talked everything else out over the years."
"Sam, please." He sounded odd. As if he were in pain. "Sam, please don't do this."
Hypersensitivity was part of the crazy, wasn't it? So, what she was feeling for him—wanting so much, so hard, to fall into his arms and let him comfort her—that was part of the psychosis.
No. No! Stop. Don't want, Sam. Don't feel. Go. Go!
She got the key into the ignition and turned it, depressing the clutch automatically. She shifted the car into gear, glancing over at him as she gunned it. "I told you."
"Damn it, Carter." He reached for the steering wheel, but she'd already shifted into gear and hit the gas.
He stood and jumped backwards as the car surged forwards, as she reached out and tugged the door closed while steering around the outer edges of the lot.
At the last moment before she left the Mountain, she looked in the rear view mirror. He was still standing there, silhouetted against the sunset, watching as she drove away.